


All's Well That Ends

by emungere



Category: Hannibal (TV), Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-29
Updated: 2013-11-29
Packaged: 2018-01-02 23:26:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1062921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emungere/pseuds/emungere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Night Vale/Hannibal crossover. Hannibal has Cecil's job. Will's there to investigate an unfortunate incident.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All's Well That Ends

The tiny prop plane landed at an airstrip surrounded by cracked dirt, rock, and nothing else. Will’s rental car was waiting for him.

"Don’t worry about signing for it," the pilot said. "They know who you are."

Jack and the rest of the team had missed their connection at O’Hare, and Will felt more than usually alone here, under a wide, dimming sky. He switched on the radio and started along the one road that led, hopefully, into Night Vale.

"Our Boy Scouts have an important date coming up," the man on the radio said. "Please join them for a fun fair fund raiser in the vacant lot in back of the Ralph's. There will be games, prizes, and a number of food stalls. I'll be there myself, so if you'd like to make a truly meaningful contribution, please feel free to come and see me the night before. You never know how much of yourself you can give to a worthy cause until you try." 

Will frowned, eyes strained for any sign of civilization. He'd been hoping for music, but this was better, almost comforting: a shred of normality in a day growing stranger hour by hour.

"And now, the news. The glittering particulate matter than has covered our streets is, according a statement from the Sheriff's Secret Police, 'Not a cause for concern' and, furthermore, 'Definitely not the pulverized remains of of an aeons old crystalline structure discovered in the sub-basement beneath Big Rico's Pizza last Wednesday'. They say the powder is harmless and inert and that anyone experiencing hallucinations, vomiting, or death should report for re-education at their earliest convenience. Unfortunately, several people have already done so, and, so far, decapitation and cattle prods have had no effect."

Will reached out slowly and switched the radio off. 

Half an hour later, against a gaudy sunset, Will pulled into the parking lot of Big Rico's Pizza. He needed directions and dinner, and the options for both were limited. He'd barely seen anyone on the streets, which were, in fact, covered in drifts of glimmering powder that puffed up around his car tires and stuck to the windshield. 

A woman with a shovel scooped up a pile of it and tossed it over a hedge. She straightened to hail a man in a brown plaid suit. "Hannibal!" she called. "I missed the weather, do you mind?" 

"I'll repeat it when I get back to the station," he said. "It was the Aria da Capo. I think you'll find it accurate." 

Will stopped short, halfway across the parking lot. It was the man from the radio. There was no mistaking that voice. 

The man turned toward him and smiled. He came closer, picking his way through glittering dust that still managed to cover his shoes. 

"I don't believe I've seen you in town before," he said, and held out his hand. "Hannibal Lecter."

"Will Graham. I heard you on the radio on the way in. Maybe you can help me. I'm looking for…" He pulled the directions from his pocket. "The abandoned house on the edge of the Sand Wastes that belonged to the Peters family before that unfortunate incident?" 

"Yes, of course," Hannibal said, and then stopped, looking over Will's shoulder. 

Will turned. Three headless forms shuffled toward them across the parking lot. 

"Is this some kind of practical joke?" Will said. 

"I doubt it. The Sheriff's sense of humor runs more to fake dog feces. Perhaps we should get inside." 

The woman with the shovel swung it at one of the headless forms. It knocked her to the side and she lay, bleeding, on the grass. 

"What the hell," Will said, and pulled his gun. 

"I would suggest aiming for the knees," Hannibal said. "Clearly severing the spinal cord isn't enough to put them down, but that should at least slow their progress." 

Will steadied himself, aimed, and fired. It did slow them, but they kept coming. A black Hummer screeched into the lot. Five men jumped out and rounded them up with nets. 

Hannibal called for an ambulance and knelt by the injured woman. He pressed a silk handkerchief to the scrape on her temple. "I do hope it's not contagious," he said.

Will sank down next to him, hands shaking. A fine spray of blood covered wrists and arms. The last one had gotten too close. "That was real," he said. "You saw it too?" 

"What is reality but a shared experience, a similar processing of external stimuli?"

"How do I know I'm processing that the same way you did?" 

Hannibal smiled at him. "No one truly knows that, Will. The atoms that compose us collide for one minute sliver of infinity in such a way that we can breathe and hear and taste and experience a world that is only a collection of other atoms momentarily clinging to each other as we are ourselves, before the inevitable plunge into the void. Questioning our experience of reality is like a star questioning its own light. Better not to." 

The ambulance arrived. The woman threatened them with her shovel until they drove away again. She kept on shoveling drifts of glittering dust with Hannibal's handkerchief tied around her head, now lightly stained with blood. 

"Come," Hannibal said, and offered Will his hand. "Let me buy you dinner. It's a crime not to try Big Rico's pizza. Well, technically only a misdemeanor." 

Will let Hannibal help him up and lead him inside.

**Author's Note:**

> [emungere.tumblr.com](http://emungere.tumblr.com)


End file.
